Wail of a Banshee, Tear of a Dryad
by Lor Dreamcatcher
Summary: It's Harry's sixth year, there's a new DADA teacher, who is somehow connected to the Marauders. Dark times ahead... L/OC,H/OC,D/G,R/HG
1. Chapter One

Wail of a Banshee, Tear of a Dryad 

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, at least nothing you recognise. It belongs to the amazing, the formidable, the unbelievable… J. K. ROWLING 

Author's note: I love Harry Potter, I read the fifth book in one day (my eyes still hurt), so this takes place in Harry's sixth year. English is not my first language, so please be patient! 

Chapter One 

New developments 

This summer was among the worst Harry Potter, now 16 years old, had ever lived through. It wasn't because of the Dursleys mistreating him anymore, it was because of what had happened during his fifth year at Hogwarts. He had been forced to see the Dark Lord again, at the Ministry of Magic where he had tried to steal a prophecy about himself and Harry. He had failed, however, and the prophecy, or at least its copy, had been destroyed. Some Death Eaters had been arrested, too, and the Ministry had finally been forced to admit that Voldemort had returned. But Harry wasn't comforted by any of this, for Sirius Black, his godfather, the closest he had ever come to a real father, had been killed while rescuing Harry and his friends from the Death Eaters' clutches. 

It was the morning of August 2nd and Aunt Petunia woke Harry up with a knock on his door. 

"Harry", she called, "breakfast's ready." 

His living conditions at Privet Drive 4 had changed drastically. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been warned by some very important wizards not to mistreat Harry and Dudley finally believed that Harry had indeed saved him from some horrible creatures called dementors last year. He now regarded him with some kind of awe and had stopped bullying him completely. However, Harry had stopped thinking about all of this. He had received ten OWLs and wasn't comforted by that, either. His friend Ron had received nine and Hermione, of course, twelve, the highest mark possible. 

Slowly, Harry climbed out of his bed, put on his glasses and got dressed. He did it mechanically, without bothering that his shirt looked very crumpled. He ran his hands through his messy black hair, combing wouldn't help anyway, and made his way downstairs. He was greeted with a nod by the Dursley family but didn't respond in any way. He hardly ate, either, just nibbled a bit of ham and tried the eggs, but nothing of it woke his appetite. 

Uncle Vernon and Dudley soon left to get 'little Dudders' a new punching ball. 

Harry remained in the kitchen and dried the dishes Aunt Petunia was washing. The Dursleys didn't force him to do that kind of housework anymore, but since he had nothing else sensible to do, he could as well help. 

Without him able to stop it, the sight of the clean, dripping wet plates and glasses reminded him of the sight of Sirius' kitchen in his old family's house. It had been very dirty, especially during the time he had lived alone there, only accompanied by the lousy house elf Kreacher. Sirius hadn't bothered with cleaning up and so the dirty dishes had piled there. 

"Harry?" 

Aunt Petunia's voice interrupted his musings. It was strange enough that she spoke to him at all, but this time, her voice wasn't even angry, but quite soft. 

His aunt regarded him with a slight smile on her thin mouth, another strange sight. It vanished very soon, but she still looked at him softly. 

"You miss him, don't you? Your godfather?" 

Harry was speechless. She had never even mentioned him before. Was this all due to some adult wizards' warnings, or was she suddenly on her way to liking him? 

He nodded in response to her question. "Yeah, he was… he was very nice and…" he stopped talking, reminding himself that Aunt Petunia wasn't interested anyway, but she urged him, "Go on!" 

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, he was a bit like… you know, father and friend. Like, not really strict but always there to help. T'was a bit like having dad back…" 

Now he waited for the big explosion. It didn't come. 

"I met him once", Petunia told him, "at your parents wedding. I didn't want to go, of course, but our parents made me. He was quite a handsome guy…" 

She gave him another quick smile and left the kitchen. Harry stood there and felt as if he had just been Stunned. 

Summer holidays went by quickly. Remus Lupin, Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody dropped by sometimes, visits that were greatly disliked by Uncle Vernon. 

And then there was the first of September. 

Aunt Petunia took him to King's Cross and did another thing she'd never done before: she wished him a 'good time this year' and said 'see you in the summer'. 

Harry pushed his trolley on which he had put his heavy trunk and Hedwig's cage. The owl was out delivering a letter to Remus Lupin. 

He was used to getting to Platform 9 ¾ by now. Again, he leaned against the wall between platforms nine and ten, glided though it and landed on the magical platform where the scarlet Hogwarts Express was already waiting. 

"Hello, Harry, over here!" 

Harry looked around and found his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger already waiting for him. Ron had grown again and Hermione's hair was tied in a ponytail today which made her look very different. Not bad, just… different. 

Harry made his way through a group of loudly chattering first-years towards the two. They eyed him, concern obvious in their eyes. 

"How are you, mate?" Ron asked in an undertone. 

Harry just shrugged. He had been asked that too often already. 

"All right, I s'pose." 

"Of course you're not all right", Hermione contradicted, "but you will be." She smiled at him and suddenly she let out a small cry and hugged him so vigorously he had the feeling as though his head was about to come off. 

"Urgh, Mione, okay, that's enough…" 

Quite thankfully that she was standing on her own two feet again, he looked around and spotted a young witch, by the looks of her barely older than twenty, sitting on her trunk, fast asleep. She wore a long skirt that seemed to be made out of some kind of patchwork tissue, although most of the colours were dark, a black blouse with wide sleeves and a brown coat. 

Her dark brown hair was braided into a long plait. All in all, her appearance wouldn't have looked out of place in the 19th century… 

"Who d'you reckon that is?" he asked the other two. 

"Probably the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher", Hermione replied shrugging. 

Ron creased his forehead. "Looks a little young, doesn't she? Hope she's up to it." 

Harry continued watching her. She looked nearly as ill as Lupin had on his first day at school. Suddenly, the train emitted a shrill whistle and her head jerked up. She grabbed her luggage and boarded the train and the others did quick to follow her. 

On board the train, Harry was once again painfully reminded that Ron and Hermione were prefects and he wasn't, because they had to sit with the others at the prefect compartment and Harry was left alone. He didn't want to sit with Ginny, however, who was busy holding hands with her boyfriend Dean Thomas, or with Neville Longbottom, who was immersed in a book called 'History Of Herbology In The Wizarding World'. 

So he sat down in an empty compartment and decided to spend the train ride feeling sorry for himself. Cho Chang passed him once, looked at him shortly, blushed and turned her head away again. Harry, though, couldn't care less. His infatuation with her had ended rapidly at the end of his fifth year. They had been seeing each other for a short time, but it hadn't been nearly as great as he had imagined. 

The train began to move out of the station and soon, London was far behind them and the landscape changed into rural environment with grazing cows and wheat field. 

Suddenly, Harry's compartment door slid opened. Outside stood the young witch from the station. 

"May I come in?" she asked politely, though in a bit of a hushed voice. "Sure", Harry replied and motioned to one of the seats opposite him. She thanked him with a small curtsy –another think that would have fitted in the 19th century- and sat down. 

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" she asked and as he nodded, she continued, "I'm Helen O'Connor, your soon-to-be Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm replacing Professor Umbride." 

Harry just nodded again, what else was there to say? 

Professor O'Connor waited a moment, then she asked, "Has you godfather Sirius never mentioned me? Not that that's too bad", she added rather hastily, "I mean, he sure had other things in mind…" she stopped talking and looked out of the window. Her eyes were glittering with suppressed tears, Harry noticed. In his opinion, girls were crying too much. 

The new professor cleared her throat before standing up again. "Well, that's all I wanted to know…" She looked as if she was about to say something more, but then she thought better of it and left the compartment again. Harry, utterly confused, was left behind with even more unanswered questions about Sirius and his father and the Marauders in general… and there was only one left he could ask. But writing to Lupin would have to wait a while. 

*** 

The train ride had been, after Professor O'Connor's strange visit, quite uneventful. 

Harry had met Ron, Hermione and the rest of his Gryffindor classmates at the Hogsmeade station. The carriages pulled by the ugly winged thestrals had taken them up to the school and there, inside the Entrance Hall, Harry met one of his worst nightmares again. 

Draco Malfoy, who had tried to attack him at the end of his last school year as a revenge for bringing his father into Azkaban prison, was now waiting for him, together with his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Look there, boys", he drawled, "it's Potty, Weasel and the Mudblood!" 

"You're jokes are getting old, ferret", Hermione answered coolly. Malfoy paid her no heed. 

"D'you know already, Potter? My dad's free", he shouted gleefully. Harry froze to the spot, Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances. Malfoy wasn't finished yet, however. 

"Yeah, my father's free…", he repeated, "and your godfather's dead!" 

Hermione let out shriek of anger, as both she and Ron had thrown themselves onto Harry to stop him from attacking Malfoy. 

The Slytherin had drawn his wand and, with a nasty grin, pulled back his arm to throw a curse at the trio. 

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his wrist from behind, turned it around and pushed his arm upwards until Draco dropped his wand and let out a yelp of pain. 

"Don't do that ever again!" the stranger's voice warned him, a female voice. Then the saviour of the three Gryffindors stepped forward from behind him and they could see that it had been Professor O'Connor. 

"I wonder what it was with her and Sirius…" Harry muttered. "She didn't do this for us, she was just furious about his remark, too."  
"Harry", Hermione said, "I think I know what's up with her. Did you see she has small white flowers growing in her hair? She's partly Dryad, that's why she looks this young. As for Sirius… I think she was his lover!" 

_TBC _


	2. Chapter Two

Wail of a Banshee, Tear of a Dryad 

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, at least nothing you recognise. It belongs to the amazing, the formidable, the unbelievable… J. K. ROWLING 

Chapter Two 

The familiar face of a perfect stranger

Harry stared at Hermione. 

"Herms, you're jumping to conclusions! Don't you think he would have mentioned her?" 

Herms shrugged again. "Yeah, well, why would she have asked you? As far as we know, she is not a member of the Order!" 

Ron let out a snort. "Oh please. Okay, she may be part Dryad, but the rest? Please!" 

Suddenly, their discussion was interrupted by tiny Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice. 

"What are you waiting for, children? The sorting, the sorting!" 

The three friends went into the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. They had already missed the Sorting Hat's song and now watched as the new students put on the old, tattered looking hat that cried out their house. 

After it had enounced the house of 'Zabini, Eglantine' ('Slytherin') Dumbledore stood up and said, "Before we can enjoy the feast, there are a few things I'd like to say. As you will no doubt have noticed, last year was quite eventful. We all know now that the Dark Lord is back and therefore we will put a lot more emphasis on Defence Against the Dark Arts. I want you all to welcome our new teacher Professor Helen O'Connor", there was a half-hearted round of applause, Malfoy wasn't clapping at all, "Now, _tuck in!_" 

The delicious feast appeared and Harry, Ron and Hermione heaved potatoes, lamb chops and peas onto their plates and began to eat, all the while discussing that new teacher. 

Harry, meanwhile, was watching Professor O'Connor. She was hardly eating, merely poking at her baked potatoes. Professor McGonagall said something to her, but it took her two attempts to get her attention. 

"Hermione," he said suddenly, making the other two jump. "D'you reckon they keep the old yearbooks somewhere?" 

Hermione looked nonplussed. "Of course. There's a special section in the library." 

Harry grinned at his two friends. "How do feel about checking out this new teacher in the yearbook before going to bed?" 

*** 

"Madame Pince is not going to like this one bit," Hermione muttered, as they slipped into the empty and quiet library later that evening. 

"Come on!" said Ron. "The door was open, it's not like we're breaking in!" 

Harry, leaving those two at their bickering, had already spotted the section with the yearbooks and immediately sprinted over to them and started looking for the year of his parent's graduation. 

"We don't know if she was in the same year with them," Hermione suddenly said. "Or if O'Connor is her maiden name!" 

Harry ignored that, he had already found the book and opened it with slightly trembling hands. 

There, on the Gryffindor page were his parents, smiling happily. His mother had been really pretty with seventeen, he had to admit. Her eyes, that were so like his own, were positively gleaming with happiness. His father, whom he had come to know as a brilliant but slightly arrogant prat at fifteen, looked equally happy. 

And there - Harry felt a lump rise in his throat - was Sirius. His now deceased godfather looked extremely handsome in the picture, his features even, his eyes warm and dark, with a slightly mischievous gleam in them. His hair, that was a bit shorter than it had been shortly before his death, was a shining and some strands kept falling him into the eyes, in a sort of casually elegant way. 

He swallowed hard, then he turned the page. Ravenclaw… Hufflepuff… Helen O'Connor was not among them. So either she really hadn't been in their year, or she had been… 

"Slytherin!" Harry said suddenly and pointed at a photograph on the Slytherins' page. It was clearly Helen, her pale, slim face and the little flowers in her hair were instantly recognizable. 

"She was in Slytherin?" Ron said, utterly bewildered. "Well, that rules out your theory of them being lovers, Hermione!" 

Hermione didn't answer. She scanned the other pictures, for instance that of Lucius Malfoy, looking even better than his son Draco, although he was considered a heartthrob. 

But then her gaze remained glued to Helen's picture. 

Harry closed the yearbook resolutely. "We wont get anything out of staring a an old picture," he said, "at least we know she knew my… she was in the same year as the marauders." 

Ron was eyeing him tentatively. "Harry? You okay?" 

Harry nodded. His scar had just seared again, a little less painful than usual, but he had the horrible feeling he knew her face… whatever it was, it couldn't be good! 

_A/N: I know this is way too short. I'll soon post more, I swear! And please keep reviewing, reviews make my day!!_


	3. Chapter Three

Wail of a Banshee, Tear of a Dryad 

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, at least nothing you recognise. It belongs to the amazing, the formidable, the unbelievable… J. K. ROWLING 

Chapter Three 

Truth 

It was very late when Harry, Ron and Hermione left the library to go back to Gryffindor Tower. 

Suddenly, they heard voices drifting around the corner. 

"…reaction, once the boy finds out!" It was Snape's dark, velvety voice. 

"Shut up!" This was Professor O'Connor's voice, angry and agitated. Snape sniggered. 

"Oh please! You knew Potter's parents were doomed, yet _you_ didn't have the stomach to warn them!" 

Harry froze to the spot. 

"_I was imprisoned at that time! _I wanted to warn them, I feel sorry for Harry, I know what it's like to have no parents." 

"Your father lives, Helen!" Snape sniggered. 

There was a frustrated scream and Ron and Hermione pulled Harry into a cupboard, right before the angry Professor O'Connor stormed past them. 

They waited for a couple of minutes. When they didn't hear anything, Hermione peered around the corner. The hallway was deserted and they left the cupboard. 

The trio exchanged looks. "What was _that _about?" Harry asked the other two. They could just shrug. 

** 

Back in the common room, they sat down in three of the squashy armchairs. Ron pulled his schedule out of his pocket. This year, they had gotten them along with their booklists. 

He skimmed the rows lazily… then he jerked. 

"Hang on!" 

Hermione looked up. "What's wrong, Ron?" 

He handed her his schedule. "Where's Care of Magical Creatures? Check yours!" 

Harry and Hermione pulled out their schedules as well, but they didn't find the subject either. 

Harry looked up and met the worried glances of Hermione and Ron. "They _can't _have sacked him." 

** 

Helen slammed her office door behind her. 

Why oh why had she let that overgrown bat provoke her? He had been able to do that since their schooldays. 

Slumping down at her desk, she put her face into her hands and let out a sigh. Classes with the sixth year Gryffindors first thing tomorrow morning… Classes with that Potter boy. 

She wasn't sure what to expect. If Severus was to be believed, he was as bad as his father had been, which was very bad indeed! But maybe not. 

She sighed again. How she had loathed James Potter. It was his fault her friendship with Severus had ended, it was his fault that her friendship with Lily Evans had failed… and yet she had forgotten about her hard feelings for the Marauders for that one fateful evening… She couldn't help remember. 

It had been two weeks after Dumbledore had contacted her about the Order of the Phoenix… She had been summoned to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, where Sirius Black had put her up for the night… 

_*Flashback* _

_Sirius stood awkwardly next to her, as she examined the small room with the grimy window, the little wardrobe and an old, but comfortable looking bed. _

_She smiled at him, trying to alleviate the tension. "It's really nice, Sirius!" she said and his face broke into a smile, which made him look very different. He looked much more like the handsome boy he had been at Hogwarts, much more like the boy every single girl at school had swooned over. _

_"Well," he said, finally taking the hands out of the pockets of his robes, "fancy a drink down in the living room?" She considered it for a moment, then she nodded, accepting the courteously offered arm and they went down the stairs. Sirius couldn't keep his eyes away from her, and Helen had been very lonely for a very long time! _

_It had only taken him six glasses of firewhiskey to convince her that they would be more comfortable in his bedroom… _

_*End Flashback* _

"Oh my God…", she moaned. Tomorrow was certainly nothing she looked forward to… 

** 

The Gryffindor sixth years had no sooner filed into the classroom then Professor O'Connor entered as well. Some students were still taking out their stuff when she charged into the room, her dark, forest green robes billowing behind her. She shot the still-rummaging students an angry glare, and as she slammed her bag onto the desk, she hissed, "Silence!" 

The room fell quiet immediately. 

Her eyes, that appeared to be pitch-black, wandered from face to face before they came to rest on Harry. 

"Harry Potter", she said quietly, but she, like Snape, was audible even if her voice was just above a whisper, "I see from the records of my former colleagues that you have shown great aptitude in this subject, last year aside… Why, pray tell, do you put this much energy into this particular subject?" 

Harry shrugged, unsure about how to answer. Why was she glaring at him like that? She hadn't been like that on the train. In fact, her expression now was similar to the one Snape wore when seeing Harry. 

"I… dunno. I guess because it seems most important to me." 

Her lip curled slightly. "Does it…" She was about to go on talking as suddenly the door opened and Professor McGonagall entered. 

"All students", she said in a slightly quivering voice, "are to return to their dormitories! Helen, you have to come with me!" 

Helen frowned. "I do not appreciate you interrupting my class, Minerva, but if this is absolutely necessary…" She stood up and the students hurried past the Gryffindor Head of House. She held back Harry, Ron and Hermione, though. 

"I regret to tell you that… well… Hagrid had accompanied his brother Grwap back home… and he has been very seriously wounded. He made it back to Hogwarts, but Madame Pomfrey was not able to save him. I am so sorry. I will escort you to your common room now. Helen", she said to the other teacher, "you should hurry to Dumbledore's office." 

Harry didn't really listen to her anymore. This could not be. Not again. He could not have just lost someone so dear to him again… Hagrid… dead? 

Harry fainted. 

TBC 

_A/N: I know this was a bit drastic, but since I only got so little reviews on Chapter Tow, I had to do **something! *pouts* Rating might go up soon. Anyway, you know what to do, right? Hit that review button! Flames will be extinguished immediately by the fire brigade! **_


	4. Chapter Four

Wail of a Banshee, Tear of a Dryad 

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, at least nothing you recognise. It belongs to the amazing, the formidable, the unbelievable… J. K. ROWLING 

Chapter Four 

The archer Cupid at Hogwarts 

Helen climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office, while Professor McGonagall transported Potter to the hospital wing. 

The teacher clenched her teeth. What on earth had happened now that was so important? That oaf's demise. Then she mentally slapped herself. Hagrid had never wronged her in any way. She had found him a bit slow witted, but not particularly unfriendly. 

As for Potter… she saw a lot of James Potter in him, which was a reason to despise him, but on the other hand, he was Lily's son, too. The Gryffindor had been her best friend for some time, but thanks to James… Was Mudblood segregation any worse than Slytherin segregation?, Helen asked herself. 

She had reached the office and opened the door without knocking. 

Dumbledore ignored her rude behaviour and motioned for her to take a seat in one of the squashy armchairs in front of his desk. Three of them were already occupied by Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and young witch, maybe in her late twenties, with long black hair, large blue eyes and a light suntan. Helen's eyes narrowed at the sight of her. 

"What are YOU doing here?" she asked sharply. The other woman arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. 

"Paula," Lupin interjected hastily, "I'm sure Miss O'Connor didn't mean to offend you," and to Helen he said, "Miss Antinardi has agreed to take over Care of Magical Creatures." 

Helen pursed her lips. "Ah, great! And yes, I _did_ mean to offend her." 

The Italian laughed. "Really, Helen, you should set your anger aside in these days." The accent was still quite evident in her voice. Her eyes now narrowed as well and she rose from her chair to stare Professor O'Connor right into the eyes. "Women like you don't make friends easily, remember?" Now the men rose as well. Snape strode over to lay a calming hand onto Helen's shoulder and Lupin took Paula's elbow. 

"Please, Ladies," said Dumbledore soothingly. "This is not the time for personal conflict. We must stand together. Now, be seated, all of you!" 

They sat down, Snape purposely taking the seat between the two women. Before Dumbledore started talking again, he took Severus took Helen's hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

She gave him a surprised and thankful smile. Then the Headmaster resumed talking. 

"You have all heard about the tragic demise of Rubeus Hagrid. Now, therefore, we had to employ a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher – Miss Antinardi. Furthermore, as you no doubt have noticed, Defence Against the Dark Arts is the most important subject this year. Therefore, as we doubt that one person alone can handle that, Professor Lupin has been recalled and will teach the students up to fourth year, Professor O'Connor those above." 

Helen's mouth had become very thin. She stood up so abruptly that her chair skidded backwards. "Great, Dumbledore," she hissed. "Call Paula, take away my classes… What do you wanna do? Run a school or make my life living hell?" 

Without another word, she turned and ran from the office, with Severus close at her heels. 

** 

Helen came to a halt in a hallway not far away from the gargoyle that opened the door to Dumbledore's office. She leaned against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shivered suddenly, some kind of coldness grasping her thin body… 

"Helen!" She turned around. Severus was standing behind her, concern obvious in his pitch-black eyes. "What do you want?" she asked weakly, "you are just like them." 

He shook his head. "No, little willow, I'm not!" 

She smiled. "'Little willow'. You haven't called me that for ages." A smile turned up the corners of Snape's thin mouth. "Yes, well… not since you believed Potter that it had been me who had put the bubotuber pus into you dragon-hide gloves in fifth year." 

Suddenly, she started sobbing again and then stepped closer to him, leaning her head against his chest. Severus stroke her hair. Then he pushed her backwards. She turned up her wet face to look at him. He cupped her face with both hands… There was a silent pleading in her eyes and she gave in immediately as Severus bent down and kissed her. 

** 

The next morning dawned brightly, but the atmosphere was very miserable. The students had been informed about Hagrid's death and, though many had criticised his teaching, he had been quite popular with most of them. Dark looks were shot at Professor Antinardi, though she was clearly not the one to blame. The Slytherins, Pansy Parkinson prominent among them, didn't seem to care that much, but strangely enough, Draco Malfoy didn't say anything. Instead, he kept quite a gloomy expression. At the Gryffindor table, Hermione and Ron sat together, thinking of Harry, who lay still in the Hospital Wing. Hermione sobbed silently and tears ran down her face again. Ron looked very pale as he skidded closer to Hermione and lay a comforting arm around her. She put her head onto his shoulder, thankful for the support. 

Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall opened and Harry came in. He sat down next to Ron, without saying a word. He didn't eat anything, either, just stared at the golden plate in front of him. 

The post owls arrived and a handsome screech owl dropped a black envelope in Malfoy's lap. He stared at in, fear obvious in his pale grey eyes. He opened the envelope, pulled out a piece of parchment… 

His cry of anguish sounded through the Great Hall, making everybody jump. Then, a loud crash sounded, for Draco had seized his golden goblet and thrown it against the opposite wall. Then he jumped to his feet and ran out of the hall. In a second, Professors Snape and O'Connor followed him, their robes flapping behind them like wings. 

** 

Paula Antinardi had looked up at the sound of Draco's scream, just like everybody else, and watched Snape and O'Connor following him. 

She turned to Lupin, who sat next to her. The werewolf looked extremely grave. 

"Do you know what happened?" she asked. 

He considered the matter for a few moments. 

"I am afraid he just received word about the death of his mother. Narcissa Malfoy was poisoned a few days ago and transported to St.Mungo's, but obviously, they were not able to do anything about it. The poison was one rarely seen or something…" 

Paula shook her head sympathetically. "The poor boy… no mother, a swine of a father…" 

Remus Lupin couldn't help but grin at her description of Lucius. 

** 

Draco had his face pressed against the stone wall of the Entrance Hall. 

Why? Why? The question echoed in his mind. He had known that his mother, devoted to Lucius, had been a bad person, a Death Eater, just like a lot of their friends. But still… WHY? She had been the only person who had cared about him at least a little. He remembered the last letter she had sent him. 

"…sometimes sacrifices are necessary for the cause you believe in…whatever our Lord demands has to be done, even if it requires the life of a devoted follower…"

He had thought she had been talking about his father's imprisonment, but in truth, she had been talking about her own death. 

They had made Narcissa Secret Keeper for the Death Eater hideout, and now that she was dead, she had literally taken the secret to the grave. Nobody would ever find them… 

"Draco…?" 

He turned around to find the Professors Snape and O'Connor standing behind him, both looking extremely worried. Without another word, Professor O'Connor pulled Draco in her embrace and, strangely enough, he let it happen. He held onto the small, fragile woman, trying to pretend that he was five years old again and that this was his mother… 

Severus watched Helen comforting Malfoy, the son of the man she loathed nearly as much as the Dark Lord himself. 

Just then, the doors of the Great Hall opened and the Gryffindor trio entered the Entrance Hall, closely followed by Professor Dumbledore and Paula Antinardi. 

Immediately, Draco pulled away from Helen and wiped the tears of his face. 

Dumbledore led them over to the other three. 

"Mr Malfoy?" he asked softly, "are you all right?" Malfoy nodded curtly. He hated himself for his weakness. Crying in front of Potter, really. 

Harry raised his gaze to meet Malfoy's. "Sorry, 'bout what happened", the bespectacled boy said finally. 

Malfoy scorned. "Don't pretend. You always wished for me and my family to go to hell." 

Harry felt his temper rising immediately. What good was it, showing compassion, if it was thrown right back in your face? 

"True," he spat, "but that doesn't mean I don't know what it is like to lose someone close to you. After all, it was your dear auntie who murdered my godfather!" 

"And I commend her for it!" Malfoy shot back. 

"BOYS!" Dumbledore said sternly. "That's no way to treat each other. Stop this ridiculous fighting right now!" 

"Oh for heaven's sake!" yelled Professor O'Connor suddenly, "For once, stop meddling, Dumbledore!" 

Everybody fell silent. Snape put his hand to his forehead in a gesture of exasperation, Paula stared at Helen as if she'd gone mad and Dumbledore looked seriously taken aback by this rudeness. The students just couldn't believe their ears. 

"S-sorry?" Hermione finally croaked. 

"You heard me!" Helen spat. 

Paula swung back her magnificent black hair before shouting, "Are you insane? What are you attacking Albus for, he's right in demanding peace!" 

Professor O'Connor was now so angry she seemed to be giving off heat. Her black eyes were glowing strangely and she looked sinister, even with the cute flowers in her shining brown hair. 

"Well, then," she hissed, "maybe he shouldn't try to put so many enemies in one room, should he? I can't _stand_ half of the staff and as for you," she pointed at Paula, looking ready to curse her into oblivion, "I'd rip you apart if I could!" 

Professor Antinardi just smiled mirthlessly. 

"My, my…"she teased, "such a violent nature… wonder where you've got it from? Your father, maybe?" 

There was a moment of silence, then, suddenly, Helen leapt forward and Snape had to grab her around the shoulders to restrain her. 

"HOW DARE YOU!" she screeched. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione backed away, utterly surprised. 

Helen O'Connor was now straining against Severus' grip, throwing every insult at Paula that she could think of. 

Dumbledore finally saw fit to interject. 

"HELEN, stop acting like a schoolgirl!" But Helen ignored him and he grabbed her upper arm himself now, saying, "Helen Riddle, stop it this instant." 

She fell limp suddenly. "Great," she mumbled. "Reveal it to them. Make them hate me even more…" 

She shrugged of Snape's hands and walked away slowly. 

Dumbledore himself seemed shocked at having let slip this piece of information. 

"C'mon," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione. They hurried back to Gryffindor Common Room. 

Once inside it, Harry heaved a great sigh. 

"Could you explain to me what just happened?" Ron asked, looking bewildered. 

"Ron, didn't you hear Dumbledore?", Hermione said impatiently. 

Ron's forehead creased as he tried to see what she was hinting at. 

"I know now why her face seemed familiar," Harry said slowly. "Her last name, Ron, is Riddle. And she reminded me of the sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle. Alias Voldemort. 

You see?" he said in a hoarse voice, "Her name isn't O'Connor and while her mother might have been a dryad, her father is Voldemort!" 

TBC 

_A/N: Hehe! Surprise? Well, isn't that a nice young woman? *winks* _

_All right, tell me what you think. Now the romance should be conspicuous. And now, hit that review button. Whoever guesses who'll hook up with Paula Antinardi will get a lollypop… _


End file.
